


Obscure Words

by heartshapedglasses



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:10:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8677696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartshapedglasses/pseuds/heartshapedglasses
Summary: Unrelated one-shots with different ships that are based on obscure/rare words.





	1. Pikit Mata

**Author's Note:**

> (adv.) lit. "with eyes closed"; how you accept the fact that something against your desires must be done."

It wasn't even in his control anymore. Maybe it never was.

Brendon was across the room, sobs escaping his mouth along with the repeated question of _Why._ Ryan didn't know why. If he knew why, If he was in control of the situation, they would not be where they were right now. It wasn't something they wanted but it was something they needed. Maybe Ryan was fooling himself into thinking that his motives for leaving were not selfish, fooling himself into believing that Brendon was the problem when really Ryan just wanted to be _heard_ and to bury himself in more drugs than he needed without having to answer to anyone who actually cared for it.

But Brendon wouldn't let him go easily. The only way Brendon would let him leave was if he himself was hurt. The decision was made on auto-pilot, like the rational part of Ryan's brain had taken a sleeping pill and left the whole mess for the irrational part to fuck up even more. But it wasn't the irrational part of his brain that would have to deal with the consequences. Of course not. 

"You wanna know why?" Ryan asked, voice cold. Brendon's sobs turned more muffled, all of the younger's voice attention focused on him. Surely there were easier ways. Surely if Brendon had lacked in devotion just a bit more this could have been done in an easier, more peaceful way. "You're worthless. You don't deserve to be singing my songs, much less sleep in the same bed as me."

The first flash of hurt appeared in Brendon's face. The few pangs of guilt had already begun in Ryan's mind. "You don't mean that," Brendon said, in a tone so very carefully structured to guilt Ryan, to make him take his words back and beg for forgiveness. But he couldn't beat Ryan at his own game. Couldn't use Ryan's own tricks against him.

Couldn't make Ryan stay even if Ryan wanted to.

"You're pathetic. Your voice isn't even that great, and you know what? I regret even bringing you into the band in the first place," The words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them, some he meant and some he didn't. But he couldn't stop. "God, Brendon, you're fucking depressing honestly. A fucking compulsive liar. A shitty singer. An even worse fuck."

Brendon had stopped crying now, the look on his face a mixture of dumb disbelief and betrayal. They stared at each other, Brendon looking for some sign that Ryan didn't mean the cruel words that had spilled from his lips and Ryan trying to ignore the guilt, trying to tell himself he had made the right decision.

God, had he?

Brendon suddenly stood up from the bed, tears streaming down his face. "Get out! Leave, you motherfucker! I never want to see you again! _Get out_!" Ryan stepped back, hands up in surrender as he left the hotel room. Zack was outside, looking very much like he wanted to murder Ryan. Though, Ryan was used to that expression being directed at him lately. Maybe he heard everything, maybe he heard nothing. Ryan kept walking away.

Years later, many years later Ryan would realize that leaving wasn't his only choice. It wasn't even the right choice. But it was too late, wasn't it? Life without Brendon and few friends wasn't something he wanted.

But it was something he had learned to accept.


	2. Verschlimmbessern (Brenneth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (v.) To make something worse by a well-meaning but misguided attempt to make something better.

The day he met Kenny, a part of Brendon sensed something bad was going to happen. Brendon couldn't exactly point out why, except he could. He just didn't want to admit it.

Maybe, just maybe, he had a thing for guitarists who were dorks and had long fingers and pretty eyes. Bonus points if they put him on a pedestal or were taken. Ryan had only been the latter. Always the latter. Ian had only been the former. Kenny just so happened to both be taken and treat Brendon like his word was sacred.

Except Kenny had this one quality Ian didn't have -and, boy, did he try to.- He was, in the most subtle of ways, like Ryan. Except the stakes were higher this time because he wasn't supposed to fall for the same thing twice and they were both married. But it was the same old cycle Brendon never thought he'd go through again, because going through that with Ryan seemed like one too many times. But there he and Kenny were. They would argue, Brendon would think it was his fault even if it wasn't, they would fuck, they'd pretend they were okay and then the same thing would repeat over and over again.

Except that instead of drugs -strong ones, at least- the third person in that relationship wasn't a vice. No, it was the fact that Kenny would never leave Victoria for him. Yet because of that, Brendon wanted Kenny to want him even more, and Kenny knew this, so he just held it above Brendon's head like some fucked up version of a prize. Kenny would just end up being a temporary person in his life anyways, right? And there'd be others after him. And Brendon would hate himself just a little bit more every time he looked down at his wedding ring.

But he made a mistake with Kenny. He broke his own rule. He wasn't just someone to cover up the space Ryan had left, no, he made his own mark, left his own little ripple of fucking destruction across Brendon and then acted innocent while he watched it grow.

Hotel nights were better because they didn't have to worry about anyone listening. Hotel nights were great because Brendon could make himself believe that it was, like, their bed. And he knew it was wrong, knew he was falling into that trap of almost-enough-but-just-not-quite.

The question ends up spilling from his lips in some city in Europe whose name he'd only bother learning a few minutes before they had to go onstage. It was probably one of the stupidest questions he had ever asked a person in his entire life. "Do you love me?" Brendon asked, voice hesitant.

Kenny just stared at him, almost like he didn't quite believe Brendon had just asked him that. Brendon didn't quite believe it either, so he didn't blame him. "That's a dumb question" He said, then after an uncomfortable pause. "You know, if you're-"

"I'm not. Just wondering. Wouldn't want to ruin this," He said, forcing a smile before climbing on top of him again. "You'll stay, right?"

"I- Sure. Sure, I will," Kenny said, hands settling on Brendon's hips. He said it in a detached way, like he thought Brendon was just asking out of a quest for comfort and didn't really mean it. Or maybe he didn't really care if Brendon believed it or not. It was most likely a mix of both.

Brendon leaned down and kissed him, trying to shut up his mind for a few seconds. It would end eventually. It would all explode in their faces and it would probably be even worse than when Ryan left him.

But Kenny, for now, was still there. 


	3. Zemblanity (Sarah/Brendon)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (n.) the inevitable discovery of what we would rather not know; the opposite of serendipity.

Sarah was always too early. It was just how she was and everyone that knew her had been faced by that personality trait at least once in their life. Brendon was off tour, and since it was one of his first days back and he was still sleeping when she had left the house, she had assumed that's how she would find him.

Except when she got home, setting the grocery bags down and feeding Penny and Bogart a few treats, she heard a strange sound coming from upstairs. No, not just _one_ , her husband's moans and the sound of the bed slamming against the wall were an identifiable noise, just not once she was used to hearing from afar.

Her mind didn't really process it at first, and if she had been another person maybe she would have gone upstairs immediately, but instead she just stood there, eyes wide and focused on the floor because that seemed to be the only real thing in the house at that moment. After what seemed like forever, she walked upstairs.

The sounds seemed to be getting louder as she neared the room, needy and desperate but mostly Brendon. She opened the door, immediately wishing she hadn't.

She had only met the man on top of her husband twice, but he was everywhere, because Brendon's past insisted on haunting him and as a consequence her. The first thing on her mind was how the world would react. Fuck, she could see the fans writing about it now. How right they were.

Brendon hadn't noticed she was there, but Ryan had. He got off Brendon quickly, covering himself up as best as he could. Brendon looked incredibly confused until his eyes suddenly widened and he sat up, staring at Sarah with this terrified look on his face. The room seemed to be frozen, Sarah with tears in her eyes, Brendon looking like he was about to lose everything, and Ryan just watching with a bored look on his face. "Babe-" Brendon began and that was all Sarah needed, hurrying down the stairs.

It couldn't be happening. That didn't just happen.

It did happen.

She barely managed to get to the driveway before Brendon caught up with her, wearing only his boxers and looking close to crying as well. "Just- God, please just let me explain," He mumbled.

"There's nothing to explain," She said, wiping at her eyes.

"You owe me the right to explain myself!" Brendon protested and that was all she needed. She took off the wedding ring, throwing it at him. He looked destroyed. She didn't care about that at the moment.

"How could you do this to me?!" She shouted. "Why would you do this? Why-"

"I love you," Brendon said, voice tired. "Sarah, I love you. He just came over and-"

"Since when?" She asked, not looking at him.

"What?"

"Since when have you been cheating on me with him?" She asked, and Brendon didn't reply. But she knew. She understood what the silence meant. " _Oh my god_."

"It- Look, it doesn't matter, okay? I married you, not him. I love you."

She laughed bitterly, stepping back. "You love me?"

Brendon picked up the ring from where it had landed on the ground. "Don't- You can't do this. You can't leave me."

Sarah stared at him for a few moments. Maybe she could stay. Maybe they could work it out. They couldn't.

She walked away. 


	4. Au Wa Wakare No Hajimari (Joncer)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Phr.) "To meet is the beginning of parting."

Every once in awhile, their excuses would run out. When that happened, the front  of hesitant friendship that they would put up for the fans was forced to be fleshed out. It was bullshit, Spencer thought, that just because they didn't end up as bitter as Brendon and Ryan, they had to pretend to be friends to calm down the thoughts of people they didn't even know.

Jon finally arrived to the coffee shop, and Spencer almost hoped Jon wouldn't see him but then he did, slowly walking over to Spencer and sitting down on the chair across from him.

"Hey," Spencer mumbled, inspecting his features to see if he had changed in the year they hadn't seen each other. At first, he could always tell, every small difference a reminder that they weren't a part of each other's lives anymore. Now, he couldn't really tell if Jon looked different or not, nor did he particularly care.

The last part was a lie. But then again, the next half hour would also be a lie.

"So, how was the wedding?" Jon asked, using that tone of voice he used when he was pissed off at something but didn't want to show it. Some things never changed, after all.

Spencer ignored it. "It was great," he said, a small smile on his face. "Real shame you couldn't make it."

Jon shrugged. "Never got the invitation."

"Must have gotten lost in the mail.." Spencer said, standing up. "Latte, right?"

"Espresso," Jon said, and Spencer nodded slightly before going to order. God, for someone who hated getting into awkward situations he sure loved to get himself into them, didn't he?

He knew how bad it looked, okay? But Spencer didn't think Jon would care if he wasn't invited, especially since Spencer hadn't been invited to Jon's. So Jon was really being an hypocrite right now, and that wasn't Spencer's problem.

Spencer came back to the table after he got their coffee, handing Jon his cup. "So, I tried to text Ryan on his birthday. Even tweeted him."

"He didn't reply?" Jon asked, taking a long sip of his coffee. Spencer shook his head. "He doesn't really want anything to do with us Spencer."

"Fair enough."

Something flashed across Jon's face. "And neither do I, honestly."

"What's that mean?" Spencer asked, confused.

"Why do we always do this?" Jon asked, frowning. "You hate me. The fact that you hate me makes me resent you. We don't talk for the rest of the year and-"

Spencer scoffed. "Whose fault is that?" Not his. Not Brendon's. Ryan's mental health issues excluded him from any fault. And then there was Jon.

"I came here to tell you that I'm done. I'm done with trying to be your friend and I'm done with trying to talk to Brendon and I'm certainly done with taking care of Ryan Ross. I'm letting go of the past," he said. And, well, one of them had to.

So, maybe they were just as bitter as Ryan and Brendon. Huh. Spencer shrugged internally, the two of them continuing to drink their coffee in silence. A part of him felt like it was the last time he'd see Jon. Even after they broke up, even after the band split, he never felt like that.

But he was fine with it. It was something they both had already made peace with a long time ago.


End file.
